


Port of Call

by Yaxley



Category: Kanjani8 (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 03:45:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaxley/pseuds/Yaxley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The vessel H.I.J.M.S Eito is home to the last humans remaining in the world. Sailing from port to port in search of survivors following a devastating worldwide disease epidemic, Captain Yokoyama You had almost lost hope until one day they chanced upon an island containing a single inhabitant, a barbarian filled with curiosity and wonder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Port of Call

It was difficult to distinguish between the blue of the sky and the blue of the sea; they seemed to blur together right on the horizon, stretched out before him as the ship sailed on through the calm waters. To some it might have seemed counterproductive that Captain Yokoyama You might be more interested in potential survivors out on the deserted lands than the three thousand souls aboard the H.I.J.M.S. Eito, but with each empty port they visited, each untouched rally site they came across, the more difficult it was to _maintain hope_ , whatever that meant. It seemed he would never meet another new human being. It was just them now. Three thousand, six hundred and eleven people left in the entire world and just a lonely ship to show for it. 

"Captain?" His second officer, a slight figure who seemed to wear his decorations for aesthetic purposes rather than actual identification, slouched at the entrance to the bridge with a worn clipboard resting lightly in hand. 

"Tell me good news, Subaru."

One of Subaru's star traits was his ability to mask panic with indifference. "Food rations at four percent. Energy consumption down fifteen percent compared to the last quarter but still riding high overall compared to previous years. Clean water usage sixteen thousand tonnes, with three thousand cubic tonnes remaining."

"I wanted good news. That's terrible news." Yoko moved away from the glass window at the bow of the ship to glance at the figures on the clipboard, his thumb rubbing at the pencilled numbers as though it might help them magically grow. Fresh water was the most precious commodity aboard a ship. "Luckily with this current bringing us portside, we'll be able to make the shore within the next few hours. Have the crew prepare for re-supplying."

"Aye aye, Captain." The second officer nodded at him, having long abandoned the formalities of rank (hell, Subaru had saved him from enough near misses anyway) and quietly moved off from the bridge. 

Apart from the occasional glimpse of a speckled albatross soaring high in the mellow sunshine in futile search of sustenance, the only sounds remaining were the sluicing wash of the sea against the side of the ship and the low purr from the engines churning rhythmically beneath the surface. Eight years of drifting had slowly clipped away at the shell of hope that once encased him. There was nothing remaining under the vast sky; even the clouds were thin and scarce. 

At times, usually in the rocking quiet of the endless night, Yoko wondered if it was right for him to lead these people on towards infinity in search of something that remained elusive to all. The Disease had caught the entire world unaware forty years ago, and within months all living souls on land had perished in necrotising pain, leaving behind cities stained with infected blood to be uninhabitable forever. Yoko's mother, who had been captaining a luxury cruise ship at the time of the Impact, had escaped the destruction by virtue of sheer luck. While other cruise liners had succumbed under the crushing pressure from their passengers to return to port for one last goodbye, Yoko's mother remained self-serving and staunchly refused. 

Forty years on and the people still hated the Yokoyama family. _You should have let us die. Anything is better than floating around without purpose._

And yet the overboard suicides dropped off after the first year, the engineers restructured the entertainment decks for utilitarian purposes and the boffins redesigned the internal processing plants to run more efficiently. With a growth rate of 0.02%, they could eventually have a little colony on their hands given another century or so. 

When the sliver of land emerged upon the horizon, Yoko took over steering the ship and pulled them alongside the shore. "Release the row-boats," he ordered, and the little boats full of passengers steadily descended into the water and began their journey to shore. Everyone helped out on supply day because everybody was crew. Freeloading was not an option.

Yoko's boots hit the embankment the moment his rowboat wedged into the sandy beach, splashing cold water onto his breeches. He led the party of two hundred able bodies out onto the foreshore, his eyes scanning for the best routes into the thickets that lay ahead.

"The usual: fresh water and food are our priorities. Let's not waste time. We need to get going again before the tide moves too far out."

The crew divided themselves into functional sections to begin their forage for supplies. Fresh water could sometimes be found further inland, uncontaminated by sulphurous deep-sea ruptures from when earthquakes had shredded the planet. Yoko blinked against the sun, holding his hand up to shield his eyes, and noted the abrupt change of types of vegetation towards the centre of the island. Closer to the shore grew primarily mangroves adapted to the harsher chemicals in sea water. After a fashion the foliage changed to varieties Yoko knew could only thrive in fresh water. And if it was good enough for the trees, it was good enough for humans. 

Yoko himself began his usual routine; he trekked along the shore in search of life. 

Unsurprisingly, there was nothing remarkable to report. Dropping to his haunches, he gathered a handful of sand and rubbed it between his fingers. Not too coarse. Fine enough to filter the majority of pollutants from the sea. He licked it delicately without knowing why; it was just something he'd seen his mother doing before she passed away. The beauty of the island was self-evident, but its location directly upon a fault line rendered it unsuitable for long-term colonisation. While the disease had wiped out the human race, the series of earthquakes that followed had devastated the planet. The earth's molten core released hot energy, raising the temperature of the sea and subsequently killing all aquatic life except the few crustaceans and plankton that could survive in boiling temperatures close to the fissure lines. 

If only he could find footprints or discarded clothing. Hell, even half-eaten food would be a victory. Anything that could suggest there was life out there, life beyond the ship. 

The pristine beach gave him nothing and the horrendous beauty of it terrified him.

* * *

It appeared that the islands drifted past them and not the other way around, for the world felt like a stagnant place and time was merely routine.

That was how it felt, until one day someone saw a moving figure on the sandy foreshore.

* * *

The rowboat drew level with the decking. Before the security guards had readied themselves for disembarking, the cargo had already leapt into action and scrambled over the lip of the rowboat. The cargo – a man - tumbled out of the rowboat, righted himself in a single fluid movement to land on crouched haunches, then rested back onto his heels to peer at the assembly of people, his eyes glittering black behind the thick, matted tangle of knotted hair.

The security guards exited the rowboat and stood in two neat rows flanking the barbarian. Only a few deckhands worked quickly on the side to secure the rowboat; otherwise, all else was silent. 

Yoko drew in a deep breath and stepped forward while the rest of the crew watched. 

The barbarian honed his attention towards Yoko and openly peered at him while slowly rising to his full height. He was a little shorter than Yoko but broad in the shoulders, well built with defined muscles underneath a stretch of bronzed skin. Naked also, with a thin layer of sweat. Not malodorous and surprisingly clean, except his feet which were bare and covered in dirt. His eyes were wide and curious, and he wore the expression of a child. Wonder. 

Feeling the weight of expectation crushing against his shoulders, Yoko cleared his throat. "Welcome aboard the H.I.J.M.S. Eito. I am Yokoyama You and I am the captain of this vessel."

But the barbarian simply continued to gawp at him, grinning toothily at times. 

Yoko turned to the security guards. "Give him something with which to cover himself, please."

A woollen blanket was produced and drawn over the barbarian's shoulders, who rubbed the edge of it between his fingers, feeling the coarse texture of the material. The barbarian grabbed hold of it for a second longer before letting it fall back onto the deck and returning his attention back onto Yoko. In spite of the cool sea breeze and the occasional spray of the ocean, the barbarian did not shiver nor appear affected by the elements. Instead he took a resolute step forward. 

The security guards immediately closed in around him, their weapons drawn and ready to fire, causing the barbarian to startle back in alarm. There was no fear in his eyes, however, as he settled down just as quickly and began to peer curiously at the rifles, reaching out in an attempt to touch the barrel.

"Take him to the medical bay," ordered Yoko, sensing that the spectacle needed to be contained to preserve the dignity of the barbarian, if nothing else. "All passengers must be dressed appropriately when appearing in public."

Immediately the security guards led the barbarian below deck and away from the hungry eyes. The crowd that had gathered gradually dispersed and slipped back to their ordinary lives, although not without a great deal of excited whispering and pointing. Yoko turned to Subaru, nodded for him to take command of the ship momentarily, and followed the entourage to the medical bay.

* * *

The barbarian was sitting up on a medical trolley, his weathered and scarred hands roaming over the light, coarse fabric of the oversized patient gown that draped off him in stiff white folds. His skin glowed faintly red from where the team had scrubbed him down during their contamination process and his feet were no longer black with dirt, but his hair remained in thick clumps that dangled down his back and across his beaming face.

Yoko snapped on a pair of latex gloves as he entered the medical bay. The double doors slid shut behind him as he approached, while the medical team pulled back to give him room. 

"He tolerated part of the contamination process and refused some of the more invasive procedures," announced the doctor as he handed Yoko a clipboard with the barbarian's information. Yoko glanced at it briefly then passed it back. "Vital signs within normal ranges. Based on preliminary findings I'd estimate that he's thirty years in age. Blood work is still being done but I'd imagine they'd come back normal too. He's perfectly fit and healthy, Captain. Congratulations, we've found our first survivor."

"Thank you, doctor." He nodded at the rest of the medical team, who politely bowed and exited the room leaving only himself, the barbarian and the head doctor.

The air was heavy, condensed with a buzz that seemed to penetrate right through him and leave him lightheaded. With every step closer to the barbarian, a surge of emotions mounted within him. Something akin to pride flared inside his body, red hot and tingling. He could barely feel his toes anymore as his feet worked of their own accord, drawing him nearer to the strange man with his filthy matted hair and openly inquisitive expression. 

This was the moment he'd been waiting for his entire life, Yoko thought, and the realisation of it pounded against his consciousness so hard he had to fight to remain in the moment. _This man_ was the survivor he'd been looking for in all the years of desperately drifting from port to port. Perhaps the first of many survivors. Fit, healthy, not too mad although quite possibly a little simple. It'd take hard work to integrate him back into society, but not impossible. Yoko locked his hands behind his back to keep them from trembling. 

"Hello," said Yoko, fighting to keep his voice as steady as possible. "Do you have a name?"

After a few blank seconds, the barbarian opened his mouth cautiously. Far from the reticence he'd displayed earlier on the deck, the barbarian appeared interested in engaging with him. "Name," uttered the barbarian, with a curious inflection. He stared at Yoko with urgency, as though trying to force the entire meaning of the word into Yoko using the power of his will. "Name!" he called again, in a loud voice that reverberated off the walls of the medical bay.

Yoko startled, resisting the urge to draw back instinctively, but the barbarian didn't seem to be growing agitated.

"Yes, name," repeated Yoko, slowly as though speaking to a child. 

But instead a frown overcame the barbarian's face, tugging his lips down exaggeratedly as he scratched at his thickets of hair. He tugged at the collar of the patient gown with his other hand and made a face briefly, a parody of disappointment. 

"I suppose not," Yoko said reluctantly, drawing up a chair and sitting down next to the trolley as he reassessed the management plan for the barbarian. There had been a manual written long ago outlining guidelines in the event they came across a survivor but that had been in the early years, left over from the first generation. A sigh passed through Yoko's lips as he folded his arms. "Probably no point having a name when you're out in the wilderness, right?" he muttered.

"Hi-na."

Yoko arched an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

The barbarian leaned forward eagerly, making the trolley creak as it tipped precariously to one side, and slapped his hand against his chest so hard it resonated. "Hi-na!" He paused, his head tilted to one side as he screwed up his face, thinking hard. "Uhhhh," he grunted in frustration, then his expression brightened. "Name is my Hina. Ahh. Name my … Hina."

Astonishment burst through Yoko's body. "Hina?" Yoko said wonderingly as the barbarian nodded at him eagerly. "Your name is Hina?"

The barbarian laughed delightedly. "Your name is Hina! Uhhh. _My_ name is Hina." Clearly satisfied with himself, the barbarian sat back and beamed.

"So you do talk," Yoko murmured, more to himself than to the barbarian. He exchanged a look with the doctor, who was practically squirming with excitement. The barbarian's speech was marred with imperfect tones and inflections, slurred in some places and jerky in others, but understandable with some concentration. Yoko placed his hand upon his own chest and said, slowly and clearly, "My name is Yokoyama You."

"Yoko-yomo," parroted the barbarian haltingly, making a puzzled expression as he carefully sounded out the syllables. "Yoko. Yoma. Yo-ko-ma."

"Yoko is good," Yoko cut in hurriedly. "My name is Yoko. Okay?"

The barbarian - Hina - smiled back at him. "Okay. Yoko. Hello."

* * *

"He speaks," Yoko announced as he stepped back into the bridge of the vessel, to where Subaru hurriedly rose upon seeing Yoko return. Yoko gestured for him to remain seated. "His name is 'Hina' and he speaks our language. Not very well but that's to be expected, I suppose, having lived on his own for so long."

Subaru snorted. He seemed to be taking the news of their survivor well within his stride. In fact, he acted as though they'd simply come across a new variety of edible fruit -- pleased but distantly unconcerned with anything beyond its practical implication. "Are we certain he was the only person on the island?"

"He said he was alone." Yoko settled into the seat beside Subaru and let his gaze drift to the open seas before them, now seeing the waters in a different light. Everything appeared brighter than before. The clouds no longer felt as though they were bearing down upon him and the emptiness of the ocean had filled with promise, hope. "At least, that's what I think he said. At any rate, he didn't appear concerned about anyone else."

Nodding absently, Subaru pulled the touchscreen towards Yoko. It displayed the passenger information list, with a new entry marked _Unknown #1_. "I've allocated him to one of the upper residential cabins, DX302. He might not be accustomed to living below the water line. The tailor has already begun making clothes for him."

"Excellent," murmured Yoko as he began to enter new data into the screen, replacing the generic _Unknown #1_ with _Hina_. He saw that information from the medical assessment had already been uploaded into the system, outlining Hina's physical details and a brief psychological report. 

_Height 175cm. Weight 70kg. BP 110/70. HR 80. SaO2 99%. RR 16. Temperature 36.3oC. Cardiac sinus rhythm S1 S2 present, NAD. Lungs clear, bilateral air entry. Patient alert and responding to all sensory stimuli without apparent impediment. Nil attempts at verbal communication, however voiced utterances of surprise and displeasure during the decontamination process. Also noted to be gesticulating (pointing, pulling at clothing, etc.) upon staff's approach. Primary emotions expressed throughout the assessment were curiosity, confusion and frustration - identified through facial expression and body language - which were congruent with the rigors of assessment. Physical assessment terminated prematurely due to poor patient co-operation and signs of increasing agitation._

"I wonder if the doctor attempted to get a temperature reading the old-fashioned way," Subaru huffed in laughter, when he craned his head to see which part of the report Yoko was scrolling through. "I'd do more than show signs of increasing agitation."

"Still brawling with the petty officers?" Yoko asked archly, his fingers skimming across the touchscreen. _Occupation: unavailable_.

"Not my style, you know that," Subaru replied just as easily. "Nil deviations from the chartered course?"

"For now. Results from the latest resupply?"

"Three tons of raw materials, translating to six tons of food. Four cubic tonnes of drinkable water."

"Excellent," said Yoko as he clicked out of the passenger list and into the navigation system. "We'll keep short the next three port calls - search for signs of life only. Then start the Pacific stretch into warmer waters. With winter approaching earlier and earlier these days we'll need to rechart the bulk of the latter months to avoid the icy conditions." He paused, hesitating just long enough for Subaru to give him an inquisitive glance. "It'll be cold this year. Preparations ought to have been made in advance."

"If we'd changed course, we might not have chanced upon your wild man."

But Yoko simply hummed noncommittally and continued to flick through the meteorology reports. 

Pounding earthquakes post-impact had shattered the planet, affecting the earth's rotation. The days were now shorter and the seasons cycled through more quickly. He'd known of this phenomenon for over a decade and yet failed to adjust for current circumstances. Blame it on sentimentality, blame it on a yearning for the past. His mother had plotted out this course forty years ago and Yoko was loath to deviate from it, as though doing so might eradicate the legacy of the woman. 

Perhaps guessing that Yoko had lapsed back into the past, Subaru cleared his throat. "Changing course could bring us to previously unknown islands. Inhabitable ones. Instead of waiting for the chemical compositions on the known islands to equilibrate to life-sustaining levels."

"Considering the sophistication of our current technology in geographical mapping, it seems unlikely that we've overlooked any potentially suitable islands. Even with only two satellites remaining functional." 

"I'm just saying."

Yoko pushed away the touchscreen and gazed out at the endless sea of blue, wondering how long it would take before he was desperate enough to gamble the lives of others for the sake of progress. 

Hina had survived on the island for thirty years with no apparent damage. Perhaps it was foolish of Yoko to continue sailing in search of the perfect inhabitable island. Perhaps he ought to risk it and dock for the final time, even if it meant eminent destruction at the hands of nature. 

"I know," he replied quietly. 

Humans were a resilient lot, he reflected, with an infinite capacity for growth. 

And hope. Maybe that was their most admirable trait; the one that would eventually lead to their downfall.

* * *

Less than twenty-four hours after successfully rescuing Hina from a wretched life of solitude, the head of security, a balding, stout man more suited to a life behind a desk than galumphing along endless corridors, knocked apprehensively on the door to Yoko's residential cabin.

Blinking blearily into the murky darkness and fumbling for the switch to the side-lamp, Yoko peered at the digital clock next to his bed and groaned. Two o'clock in the fucking morning. The perma-ache in Yoko's back was still throbbing. The ship had better be on fucking fire. 

"Yes?" he called roughly, lurching over the side of the bed to clumsily pull on the starchy uniform over his pyjamas. 

The thin, reedy voice of the head of security announced, rather sheepishly from the relative safety of the other side of the door, that they had lost their survivor. 

"Lost?" Yoko echoed, dumbfounded, stumbling as he flung open the door. "What?"

The head of security flinched, grimacing when Yoko threw him an incredulous glare. "Well. He's fast. And silent. I've sent forces out to find him, so it's only a matter of time before his position is located," replied the head of security in a rush.

"How long has it been since he was first discovered to be missing?"

"An hour, Captain."

Knowing it would be counterproductive and a blow to morale for Yoko to curse, despite that being his first and foremost instinctive response to the situation, Yoko gave a curt nod and slipped on his shoes. He looked ridiculous, for sure, dressed in striped flannelette pyjamas underneath a decorated uniform jacket, but every second he wasted preening over his appearance was time that Hina could be ignorantly pinned underneath a two tonne silo container of grains or foolishly slipping up on deck and tumbling over the railing into the midnight water. Nonetheless, he hurriedly patted down his hair to maintain a semblance of respectability. 

"Which areas have been searched?" he demanded, exiting his quarters and marching down the maze of corridors toward the security centre.

"The entire D deck and the surrounding outside environment, the communal floor and part of the utility deck," replied the head of security, who shuffled awkwardly alongside him in a bid to keep pace. They rounded the corner sharply. A dozen horrific scenarios played through Yoko's mind as to the fate of their only survivor. 

He opened the unassuming door to the security centre, in which two security officers were frantically sifting through video footage from the CCTV cameras installed shipwide. LED monitors lined the walls, stacked atop the other, each flickering through the myriad of live camera leads and displaying the main passageways through the entire vessel. Life stood still for slumber in the majority of them. No lone Hina in sight. Every now and then, a security guard would bustle across the screen, ducking and peering behind benches and into cupboards, as though expecting Hina to suddenly spring out from behind a potted plant. 

Willing himself to stay calm, Yoko drew a deep, steadying breath. 

"Search the top and bottommost decks, and the outdoors," Yoko said, and the head of security relayed the information to the guards via transistor radio. "He's used to nature. He wouldn't want to be stuck in the belly of a massive machine. How was he before the escape?"

"Remarkably unremarkable. Settled. The sustenance department reports that he did not eat much of the meal, however. I guess he's not used to the food."

Behind them, Subaru appeared at the doorway, having clearly also just been roused from bed. "Shall we switch on the main lights to aid the search?"

Yoko nodded. "We need to find him before he does something foolish. This is his first time on a ship and he probably has no idea what anything is. Be gentle when you find him; he's most likely frightened and confused."

Regretting having failed to grab something warmer to wear, Yoko turned back down the hallway to begin his own search. "Notify me immediately when you find him," he said curtly as he rushed to the flight of stairs leading to the upper decks. Not for the first time, Yoko cursed the fact that he had moved away from the traditional captain's cabin near the bridge to the residential cabin deep below the waterline, away from the prying eyes of the general public. His legs ached as he flew up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, but he paid them no heed and continued. 

The barbarian - Hina - might have gotten lost in the boiler room, or fallen down part of the rigging, or slipped on deck and tumbled overboard. Yoko ought to have made safety instructions a much higher priority when welcoming Hina onboard, not simply _left him to his own devices for the evening_. And with only two security guards patrolling D deck! 

He finally climbed above deck and pushed against the incoming wind to open the hatched door to the outside. The inky grey night sky greeted him with thick clouds and a heavy wind that propelled him across the slippery deck. He wrapped his uniform tightly around himself, acutely aware that underneath he was only dressed in pyjamas. 

Although he'd walked up and down this stretch of deck several hundred - possibly thousand - times, the scenery was different this time around. All he could see were dangerous spots: parts of the railing that were loosening, a piece of the decking that was raised, equipment that had been left out, and so on. _Fuck_ , he thought desperately. What the hell kind of ship was he running here anyway? The paint was beginning to peel and a nail was jutting out from the wall. His ship was now a far cry from the luxurious H.I.J.M.S. Eito that had departed from the dock forty years ago, in all its magnificent gleaming steel and glass beauty. It was now just a vessel sagging under the weight of a few thousand desperate humans, slowly rusting from the inside, unable to keep anyone safe.

Barely had he made half a circuit along the deck when he suddenly fell into awareness of the moment: his body was freezing cold from the bitter wind, so cold that he had to gasp to force it deep into his lungs. And then he realised that it was all madness. The logical jumps he thought he'd made were simply desperation, adrenaline bewitching his senses. 

Hina wasn't an idiot. He wouldn't venture out into the icy conditions when there was warmth to be had, barbarian or not. 

No sooner had he stumbled back inside did a security officer run up to him, eagerly waving his arms about as though he'd won the jackpot. There was a bright smile of relief on the officer as he excitedly told Yoko, "He was in the cargo hold. We caught him eating bananas."

Hina had been taken to the brig, a lifeless, dull grey concrete area that was containing its first occupant in the entire existence of the ship. Yoko shuddered to see someone crouched behind the steels bars, locked like an animal with the barrels of rifles pointed towards him. Yoko waved the security guards aside and they set down their weapons. 

"Hina," Yoko started sternly, pleased when Hina turned to look at him with recognition in his eyes.

"Yoko," said Hina. One of the security guards gasped at the audacity of the informality but Yoko signalled that it was permissible. 

"You worried us. We thought you were lost."

At this, Hina tilted his head to one side and furrowed his brow with deep concentration at Yoko's words, but either could not formulate a response or failed to understand their meaning altogether, for he remained silent. 

Looking around the various security guards and crew present, Yoko noted that the expressions of relief had drained away to reveal fatigue and half-baked slumber. And while he was not certain that if an incident were to occur, Yoko could single-handedly contain Hina, he recognised that it was selfish to keep the others awake when there were full shifts to be worked in the morning. "Go back to bed everyone; I will take care of this."

"Captain, are you certain?" the head of security simpered, even though his feet were already pointing towards the exit. 

"Yes, yes," Yoko replied easily, nodding more to convince himself of the impending endeavour than the others. Silently, the guards withdrew from the prison cell and filed out of the brig. The head of security saluted and tailed behind them, leaving just Yoko and Hina in the quiet space. Suddenly, the room seemed much too large and impersonal for just the two of them.

Without the need to maintain professionalism, Yoko walked to the cell door and opened it. "You were gone," he said, struggling to keep his sentences as short and simple as possible. "I was worried. Sad."

But Hina seemed to understand that far from being angry, Yoko was instead concerned or perhaps disappointed, for he broke eye contact and hung his head. "Hungry," he muttered. 

"The food is for everybody. We must share the food," Yoko chided gently as his mind churned with the new problem. 

The artificial, processed food served on board was clearly not to Hina's tastes, however fresh food was too precious a commodity. One single piece of banana would normally be pulverised into easily digestible mulch, combined with additional fibres and nutrients and padded out with artificial carbohydrates to create enough meal bars to feed four people. It was not sustainable to have Hina ingest only raw materials but he needed to eat to survive. Frustrated at his own lack of forethought, Yoko rubbed at the corner of his eyes and became acutely aware of the way his body sagged from lack of rest. 

"Let's just deal with this tomorrow," he muttered. "Come. I'll show you back to your room. Hina? Bed-time. Sleeping."

Hina slowly rose to his feet but remained rooted to the spot, unconvinced. "Trees?" 

"Pardon?"

Having clearly identified the stance of the security guards as one of intimidation, Hina crossed his arms. "Where are trees?"

"You want to sleep in a tree," Yoko repeated, huffing a little in amused disbelief. The man wanted to nest in a tree when there was a perfectly serviceable mattress that cushioned the body from all sides. The manual of what to do with survivors had some glaring omissions, starting from the very basics. Psychological stability and physiological adaption would have to wait. 

"All right," said Yoko, after a long pause. "I have an idea."

* * *

"The biodome," Yoko announced as they entered the glass dome at the heart of the ship, his voice devoid of any fanfare or real enthusiasm for the kitsch extravagance dreamed up by a tree-loving hippie.

Thankfully, the experts on board had transformed the monstrosity into a carefully cultivated forest of saltwater vegetation. Running in a giant ring around the perimeter of the dome was a steadily trickling stream of seawater pumped directly from the ocean; it seeped onto the artificial embankment studded with flexed cordgrasses and reeds. Dense forest crowded the glass dome as the gnarled tree trunks twisted towards the sky, forming a canopy that hung from above.

"It filters the air," he explained, somewhat unnecessarily considering Hina had long abandoned Yoko's side and bolted into the thickets, whooping in delight. Gigantic ducts jutting out from various points along the glass wall allowed fresh air to circulate throughout the ship, and there were drains at the bottom of the wall to collect any fresh water produced through condensation. For this reason alone, Yoko begrudgingly tolerated the grating ten-minute looped soundtrack of trilling birdsong and droning insects cleverly market as _nature music_ that cycled endlessly, churned out in surround sound from speaks concealed in the hollows of tree trunks.

He stuck his numb fingers into his pockets, trudging into the centre of the dome, which opened into a small, private clearing. It was cold and damp inside the biodome but Hina didn't seem to mind, darting nimbly from between the tree trunks and grabbing fistfuls of leaves to sniff. When he looked up, he could see the cross-section of the ship along ten entire decks - all gloomy hallways with the lights switched off to preserve electricity. As he glanced down again, he saw Hina had returned to the clearing and had dived into the long grassy thickets, rolling onto his back and pressing his cheek into the soil.

"You'll get your clothes dirty," Yoko mumbled with annoyance, the corner of his mouth turned down. His head was spinning from being awake for too long. "And that's two litres of water that could otherwise be used for food production."

But Hina either didn't understand or didn't care, and continued to brush his hands across the grasses, humming a little under his breath. "Come," he said to Yoko suddenly, turning an imperious gaze upon him.

"Don't be ridiculous."

" _Come_." For a man stained with green grassy streaks and adorned with bits of stray flower pollen and wispy leaves, Hina could emanate a commanding air. 

Perhaps Yoko was simply too exhausted to protest. He gingerly knelt down upon the lawn, allowing the richness of the soil to fill his lungs with the scent of the earth. When he let his head drop back, he saw the glimmering night sky high above them. 

It looked deceptively calm; it was almost tempting to call it relaxing.

* * *

"Heard a rumour you've gone native."

"Keep her steady at forty knots. I'm already late for the executive meeting," Yoko muttered, his hair still dripping wet from having leapt out of the shower and straight into his uniform. The last thing he wished to admit to was having fallen asleep inside the biodome and bolting to his cabin at the first rays of morning sun, especially when Subaru delighted in Yoko's apparent discomfort. "See if we can make the Solomon Islands by nightfall."

The boardroom members were already assembled in the wooden panelled conference room when he entered. It had once served as a presidential office over fifty years ago when the vessel hosted the great leader of their nation for a two day cruise from Honshu to Hokkaido as part of a publicity stunt for the government and advertising campaign for the cruise company. Now it hosted executive meetings for two hours per week. Yoko associated it with years of dogged training to perfect the art of feigning interest.

Items on the agenda were predictable. Energy consumption. Food levels. Matters of security. Matters of law enforcement. Whether the meetings should provide additional sustenance when they ran overtime. 

Yoko allowed these to wash over him, barely pausing to scrutinise the crisp documents set before him and gliding the nib of his pen across the dotted line. Voices from the board members flew from one end of the table to the other like birdsong in fierce competition for favour, Yoko's favour or their own, for an additional slice of power. 

"If we allow anyone to sleep inside the biodome, the original purpose of the biodome would be rendered obsolete and we'll have a hippie commune gathered before you know it!"

A murmur of agreement rose from around the table, propelling Yoko back into the present.

"We can't be seen to treat anyone differently when our society is founded primarily on equality!"

Regardless of how it was disguised, it was nonetheless a dig at Yoko's leadership, riding the growing wave of discontent among the passengers. The bitterness lingered, the purposeless. Pretending to debate was one of the few ways to distract themselves from the horror of living an empty life. Yet Yoko knew he had to swiftly cut it down before its roots took hold. 

"We'll begin a gradual transition," he announced sharply. The smattering of voices died down, cowed by his tone. "Two days a week in the cabin, five days in the biodome and then slowly reduce the number of days he sleeps in the biodome until he has successfully adapted to civilised living conditions. I assure you that residing in the biodome is a _temporary_ measure and all efforts will be made to ensure that this transition occurs as efficiently and as _safely_ as possible to preserve our new guest's psychological stability."

One by one, the board members looked away. 

"Excellent. If there are no more issues on the agenda, perhaps we should leave it there."

* * *

On the first night isolated in his cabin Hina wailed, shrieking like a man possessed by a vengeful spirit. Upon surveying the damage in the morning, the security found the furniture upturned and shelves ripped clean off the walls. There were streaks of blood found in odd corners and the pungent smell of urine in the confined space. Yoko ordered the engineers and maintenance crew to restore it back to its original state after a cursory glance, and spent two hours with the senior doctor formulating a plan for successful elimination education.

"This is called the toilet. This where you … do your business."

"What is business?"

By his sixth night sleeping in the cabin, Hina had grown accustomed to the spongy seats and the scratchy feel of carpet underfoot. He continued to use his hands to eat, finding cutlery cumbersome and often spilling the majority of his meal on the floor rather than in his mouth, but hunger often won out over the search for divine taste and Hina developed a fondness for bean paste cakes. Regardless, the kitchen staff continued to supply him with a fresh piece of fruit every day. For a moment, Yoko wondered who had given that order but decided that ignorance was a safer bet, lest the supply chain be halted.

Yoko also found that on the nights where he allowed Hina to lounge at the end of Yoko's study, watching as Yoko rewrote entire chapters of the Manual for Rehabilitating Survivors until the early hours of the morning, Hina no longer protested as vehemently about returning to his own cabin. 

Sometimes Yoko even preferred to write in Hina's cabin, even if it meant he was crushed up against the fold-down table that doubled as a desk, as Hina slowly drifted off to sleep. 

"Are you enjoying the book?" Stifling a yawn, Yoko looked up from his writing ( _Chapter 3: Appropriate Clothing and Accessories_ ) to see Hina leafing through a children's flipbook. 

Hina merely tilted his head at Yoko's words, his eyes too busy feasting on the assortment of photographs of exotic animals to care much about replying. Yoko had learnt not to give Hina books about food after the latter had once licked and chewed up every photograph contained within, then heaved the book away in frustration.

It was quieter down that end of the ship, now that they'd vacated everyone else on the deck due to the early days of Hina's violent outbursts. At least that was what Yoko told himself. 

It had little to do with him enjoying the company.

* * *

Another long stretch of days to plough through. The thrum of the ship's engines beneath him was reassuringly steady as he navigated through the icy waters of the Pacific, with the southerly breeze brushing up against the starboard side. Yoko corrected the course with a few light taps on the control screen to account for the incoming wind resistance then leaned back into the command seat as the vessel obeyed without hesitation. Cutting across the current would lead to a choppier ride for the next half hour but shredded a day from their journey; they could reach Hawaii faster.

Off to the side, Subaru was going through the course charts once more and calculating their distance from the nearest shore in case of an emergency. 

The other officers visibly relaxed with Yoko at the helm of the ship in spite of the increased turbulence across the water, and fell into pockets of idle chatter. 

Amongst the background dim, Subaru leaned over and muttered out of the corner of his mouth, "Things are stirring beneath the surface." Even though his eyes were still trained on the course charts, his hands had stilled. It was said in a casual way, almost careless, but the concern was evident in his voice. "There's talk about your role with the assimilation of the barbarian and whether it … affects your position as captain."

"He's the first survivor we've found -- we've _ever_ found -- of course I'm going to have an active interest--" Yoko hissed back, immediately feeling anger flaring up inside of him.

"I know," Subaru replied softly, shooting him a quick reassuring glance. " _I_ know, but to the outsider that's not what it looks like. They think you're too invested in the whole project."

"He's a human being, Subaru, not an experiment."

Subaru lapsed into momentary silence and when he spoke again, it was slow and deliberate. Careful, but laden with warning. "Just ease off a little. Show a bit more presence as a Captain. The passengers enjoy shows of authority; it helps them to focus. I'm not saying don't spend time speaking to the barbarian but you need to consider the other three thousand people aboard this ship."

* * *

Funny how quickly Yoko slipped into his new routine. Manning the bridge for the majority of the day and once every few days, he'd drop by Hina's cabin with a new book. Hina would regale Yoko with the events of his day, which always sounded far more exciting on account of his enthusiasm for anything new, and then settle into his basic studies of elementary education. Literacy was not one of his strengths but Hina enjoyed listening to Yoko read out passages from the old geography textbooks.

"What is brick?" 

"It's a type of clay that has been cooked until it's hard. It's used to build houses. What sort of house would you like to have?"

"Dry house," Hina replied immediately, breaking into a smile. 

Yoko returned the smile. "I'm with you on that one." 

Reaching up to push the book out of Yoko's hands, Hina leaned forward and continued excitedly. "House with big space. Trees. Many trees. River. Lake. Flowers. Birds with many colours. Look!" He looked around at the small collection of books that had accumulated in his bedroom and grabbed a slim hardcover, flipping open the pages. "This!" 

On the page was a picturesque island, not unlike the one upon which they'd found Hina. It was girded by a glittering beach front that sunk slowly into dark blue waters. In the middle of the island was a lagoon, bright blue in colour and shaped like a figure eight. Hina dropped the book onto the desk at which Yoko was seated, and peered from over Yoko's shoulder. "This one," he said, stretching out his arm and pointing to another island with crystal-like sand. "This one. This one. This one … no."

The smell of crushed dried flowers and berries coming from Hina caught Yoko off-guard. It was a sweet smell, fresh but not sickly. Having once braced himself for potential resistance, Yoko had been pleasantly surprised to discover that Hina loved the wonders of showering and often had to have his hot water supply manually cut off to prevent excessive usage. Hina presented clean and well-groomed the vast majority of the time. It was only now that he was so close did Yoko notice the scent and temporarily forget why he was perusing an old photobook that had once adorned some wealthy patron's coffee table. 

"Yoko?"

Up close, Yoko could see that the tan on Hina's skin was gradually fading and the neatly trimmed crescents of his fingernails that were tidier and cleaner than Yoko's own. The hair on the back of Hina's arms had been thick before but now they were fine, unnecessary in a temperature controlled environment, and visibly raised blood vessels coursed along the inside of his cleanly-scrubbed elbow and arched to the back of his hands.

The flower smell was getting to him. 

"It's probably time for bed," Yoko muttered, edging out from underneath Hina's arm and hastily collecting his belongings, before bolting out the door. 

That wasn't the only time such a scenario played out in its various forms, although they always inevitably ended with Yoko stuttering a poor excuse and making a swift exit. He often wondered if the devil had possessed him and turned him into a fool, for he felt foolish when Hina asked him simple questions about the composition of metals and why humans wore socks as well as shoes. Before he realised it, the days between each evening visit stretched out longer and longer until Subaru nodded at him during a lunch break and said, "That's better. Now don't forget that Takahashi-san is turning 100 so you should make an appearance."

Yet the lack of any real interaction with Hina was promptly substituted with thoughts that snuck into Yoko's mind at all hours. 

As they descended upon islands on their way to the Americas, he found himself comparing them to the images that Hina had pointed out to him and wondering if any of them were going to be _the one_. The most appropriate island for habitation was no longer judged by their environmental viability and resource availability but instead on whether the water glistened bright aqua as it lapped against a shimmering shore. Every time they reached the shore of another empty island, Hina danced along the sand whooping and laughing, cartwheeling as though he'd rediscovered himself. 

After a fashion, Yoko decided not to join the foraging party and instead remained on deck with his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he watched. 

He found that he missed the feel of sand crunching beneath his feet and the breeze twirling through palm fronds, the answering calls of the birds and the low hum of insects burrowed deep into the undergrowth, long before they'd even left.

* * *

"Are you sure that variety has had adequate time to adapt to the salinity of the water? The last time I attempted introducing such a drastic change the entire section of reeds died overnight."

It wasn't immediately apparent what compelled Yoko to swing a left turn instead of a right when departing the bridge after the end of his morning watch. His stomach grumbled every few paces, a constant reminder of its pitifully empty state. Yet his legs had continued towards the source of the laughter, the delight, until he found himself at the great entrance of the biodome. The last time he'd visited was weeks ago, long before Hina had already become accustomed to sleeping in his own cabin. 

Here, covered up to his elbows in dirt and with a comically oversized hat secured to his head with cord, Hina was busy replanting one of the shrubs to be closer to the embankment. Alongside him crouched the main caretaker for the biodome, a cheerful fellow named Maru who was already streaked with earth across his ruddy cheeks. 

"These plants survived already," Hina said, using his fingers to gingerly scrape up some of the dirt from around the roots. "These plants can live closer to water."

"All right, if you're sure," grinned Maru, digging into the base of a similar looking shrub. The two worked peacefully side by side with the midday sun filtering through the leafy canopy from above, dappling the earth. Around them the air was thickening with the rise of humidity; the glass sides of the dome began to gather miniscule beads of freshwater condensation.

Hina did not possess a formal occupation but his time was gladly spent volunteering in the biodome with Maru. The pair had struck a fast friendship, and Maru's light-hearted chatter combined with Hina's voracious appetite for new words and ideas had led to a drastic improvement in Hina's speech. Glad that Hina had fallen into something of a routine where he visited the biodome a couple of hours per day and was no longer simply wandering the decks in a permanent state of bewilderment, Yoko turned to leave them be.

His stomach grumbled again, louder than ever. 

"Yoko!"

"Captain!"

Waving awkwardly, Yoko entered the biodome and noticed the fresh assortment of plants. The precise name or species of new plants was not information he possessed but he could at least recognise that something had changed. The inside of the biodome looked brighter, more colourful, and less utilitarian. 

"Hungry?" Hina asked, dipping his hands into a small pail of fresh water collected from the glass. He crouched down at the side of a flat leafed shrub that had grown thick around the embankment. Plucking one of the leaves, Hina sniffed it briefly before cramming it into his mouth. "Delicious," he said with a delighted chuckle. "Eat some."

"Ah, no thank you," Yoko replied quickly, backing away from the proffered plant. 

Hina furrowed his brow in thought then ran to another section of the biodome where he bent to pluck at another variety of leaf with deft fingers and tasted them with the air of a connoisseur. At this species of plant Hina brightened, hastily picked a bundle and scurried back to where Yoko stood, unconvinced. 

"Eat some," demanded Hina, holding out a bunch of sea spinach.

"No, that's really not necessary--"

But Hina was insistent. "Yes," he said crossly, shoving a few stalks into Yoko's mouth when the latter began to protest.

It was salty and acrid, and it felt sharp and furry against his teeth and tongue. It tasted of earth and water, and almost overwhelmingly bittersweet. "This is disgusting," Yoko said flatly, swallowing it with difficulty. "And really ought to be processed by the decontamination department before it's fit for human consumption."

"It's delicious," Hina countered simply, grinning as he easily tossed another leaf into his mouth and munching as though it were a snack. "It's natural and healthy. You will like it."

Maru chuckled, accepting a stalk of spinach and popping it into his mouth, crunching with juicy satisfaction. "It's not bad, really. Takes some getting used to but Hina's been showing me the good ones. We could even potentially harvest some as crops to use in sustenance, food preparation and maybe even medicine." 

Shaking his head, Yoko broke into a content smile. "That's excellent news. It would help towards our goal of becoming fully self-sustainable."

"Right? Hina's been great at teaching me new methods of cultivation," enthused Maru. "He knows so much about identifying different species and how they link together. You know, my dad was a bodybuilder. He didn't exactly pass down gems of wisdom about horticulture or agriculture or ecosystems so this is definitely helpful. I'm really lucky to have his help."

"We're all lucky," Yoko replied. 

He'd known of Maru, much in the same way he knew of all his passengers in some capacity -- his function on the ship. However as he watched the pair carefully move the growth of shrubs he realised that there was more to his passengers than simply their role, or how many cubic metres of water they were allocated per month, or their food rations per family. There was passion behind it all, needs and wants. There were good men aboard this ship who toiled under the hot sun for the sake of beauty and providing a soothing place to rest weary minds. 

If it weren't for Hina, who at that moment was busy pretending not to notice that they were talking about him, Yoko might never have really spoken to Maru about anything other than _Good morning, Captain_ \- _Good morning, Maruyama-san_. 

Speaking to someone outside of the command centre was not as daunting as Yoko had previously imagined.

* * *

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, of course. What will you show me?"

It was past suppertime, when all the passengers were retiring to their cabins for the night. The biodome area closed in less than half an hour but Yoko was determined not to delay, as it was his turn to take night duty steering the ship through midnight waters. He had found Hina down below at the lowest viewing deck, watching the murky waters as the ship sailed steadily across the Pacific. The light at dusk had cast blue shadows across Hina's face as he peered, rapturous, at the bits of driftwood tumbling past the small window. "Come," Yoko had said, and without hesitation, Hina abandoned the view.

"Well, you'll have to wait a little," Yoko said, making his way onto the lawn, which was beginning to resemble more a cultivated garden than an abandoned piece of marshland. 

"The surprise is hidden?" Hina asked, peering through the gnarled trees as though it might leap out at him. 

"In a way." 

Yoko ambled to the far edge of the biodome where a giant black pine rose from the earth, its solid knotted trunk impenetrable after decades of reigning over the other vegetation. Its branches arched high over Yoko's head dangling glossy green leaves that swayed gently in the circulating breeze. It was the first plant to be cautiously brought aboard the ship, already so large the glass dome had to be constructed over the top of it. Now it stood over them all, watching as humanity cycled through the generations. 

He willingly became lost in the density of the forest -- a collection of closely packed trees, really. If he allowed his eyes to unfocus and simply listened to the rolling soundtrack and felt with his whole body, he could almost imagine it: he was in a real forest, heavy and teeming with life. All around him was nature, untouched by human hands for decades, perhaps even a century. Everything pulsed with energy and vibrancy until Yoko too was part of them, just a fragment of the world that continued to thrum with life's rhythm. 

Then the nature music soundtrack hit the ten-minute mark and there was a lull in the sounds as the chirping crickets fell away to be replaced by something else. It was staticky to begin with and then brightened, became sharper and more bold. It was nature music, sure, but it was something other than the rubbish that once churned out of a digitally remastered CD. 

It was a live _recording_ , streamed directly from the last island they'd visited. 

Hina recognised it within a second. 

"It's real nature!" he screamed, crashing out from behind a pair of salt cedars.

And suddenly Hina had leapt right in front of him, his eyes manic with a giddy buzz as he pressed right up against Yoko and beamed, flashing those wild little fangs that made Yoko feel uncomfortable and excited at the same time. "How?" he demanded breathlessly, his face too close to Yoko's. "How is it real sound?"

"Uh, just a remote microphone I picked up from the engineering department," Yoko mumbled, flushing red and awkwardly trying to squirm away, but Hina held onto him steadfastly, curling his fingers around Yoko's arms. "It's not really that sophisticated."

"It's brilliant!"

At this distance Yoko could smell it again, the flowers and the berries and the hint of something else, earthy like sandalwood, as Hina leaned forward with his lips parting for a second. Yoko swallowed shakily but found himself unable to move away. He was stuck, fixed to the spot, frozen in the moment of Hina's dark eyes staring straight into his own and the look of hunger within them. 

"This isn't…" Yoko protested weakly but Hina silenced him with a firm, warm kiss that sent Yoko's world spiralling far away from him. 

It wasn't his first kiss (aged 9, in the cargo hold during a game of hide and seek as payment for silence) nor was it the desperate, frenzied passion that came after surviving through a 48 hour tumultuous storm that had threatened to smash them against a jutting razor-sharp shore. It was something else entirely, like he'd been plucked from his ordinary life and deposited elsewhere in the middle of an exotic locale with only Hina to hang on to while they explored. Hina, who was sloppy with his kisses but eager enough to make up for it, who tasted like a bittersweet tale. 

"It's brilliant," Hina said after they'd broken apart, softer this time as he gazed with unashamed determination. " _You're_ brilliant."

"No, I just," Yoko stammered. "I don't know. Thanks. I mean, how?"

A grin spread across his face as he shrugged, a gesture he'd no doubt picked up since joining their ship. "My parents made kisses when they were happy. Long ago, of course," Hina laughed. "And Maru has a television and I watched many, many stories."

" _Attention all passengers: All public areas will be closing in five minutes and will open again at seven AM tomorrow morning. Please return to your cabins and we wish you have a good night._ "

At the announcement on the PA system, Hina loosened his grasp of Yoko and let his hands fall to his side. "Thank you for the surprise. Are you writing tonight, Yoko?"

"No, I'm working nights now for two weeks." Never before had Yoko hated the idea of working the graveyard shift so intensely, but the need to reach the American coast was more imperative than ever; the energy consumption from additional heating was costing them every day they lagged behind the seasonal change. "Maybe I'll see you at breakfast."

Along with unique gestures and a taste for khaki clothing, Hina had also developed the ability to cover up his disappointment, albeit clumsily as his smile faltered into a grimace. "Okay. Breakfast. Good night, Yoko."

"Good night, Hina."

* * *

In spite of his good intentions, by night three of the fortnight Yoko already found himself too fatigued immediately after work to consider a detour via the breakfast hall in the mornings and chose instead to crash on his bed. Hina occasionally sought him out right before his shift, just before the curfew bell sounded, to tell him about the new species of plants that Maru was introducing but those conversations were rushed, heavy with the knowledge that their time was short and it would be another day or two before their next snippet of conversation.

Over time, as the days blurred together like liquid, Yoko barely recognised what he said to Hina and thought about apologising but had more pressing matters to which to attend, such as the executive board meetings after having only three hours or sleep, or being called to an engine fault crisis twenty minutes after his head hit the pillow. 

These things lost their significance as he slept, as he drifted through the silent night with only another officer, Yasuda, to keep him company. Sometimes they chatted about the mundane, such as scuba-diving and the countless other activities Yasuda liked, which truthfully made Yoko feel somewhat inadequate. But mostly they just sat, glassy-eyed, staring out into the black sea and counting down the hours until the first red-golden streaks of dawn broke on the horizon. 

When it seemed like the state of being not-quite-alive would never end, there came a knock on his cabin door after 10 o'clock in the morning, waking him from his slumber. 

"Captain, there's an incident on G deck."

"Get Subaru to handle it," Yoko mumbled, readjusting the blankets. 

"First Officer Shibutani has specifically requested your presence, sir. He says it's urgent."

Tumbling out of bed and hastily cobbling together some clothing to look half-respectable, Yoko felt more exhausted than he'd been prior to falling asleep. He followed the young officer down to the G deck, which housed the cargo hold and equipment storage. Even before they reached the entrance, Yoko could hear the commotion of at least two-dozen people hollering over the top of one another. 

Yoko quickened his pace.

As he entered, he saw fifteen security guards struggling to hold back the crowd of passengers, who were shouting angrily and demanding justice. When they saw Yoko, they immediately ran over and started screaming into his face. 

"This has gone on long enough!" shrieked one of the woman. "Captain, you must see that that … that _savage_ is brought to justice!" 

He looked over the top of the crowd and saw Hina huddled in the corner, glaring defiantly back at him. 

"What's been going on?" he asked the junior officer. 

Subaru, who at that point had been directing the security guards, hurried over when he saw Yoko had arrived. 

"The barbarian's been caught stealing fresh food from the communal supplies," said Subaru. "We don't know for how long it's been going on but it's safe to assume that this isn't an isolated incident. The passengers are angry."

One of the passengers pushed his way to the front. "Eating our food and not contributing!" he shouted, spittle flying onto Yoko's face. "He should have been left to rot on that island. It was a mistake to pick him up in the first place."

Yoko glanced over at Hina, who had now started to channel the bulk of his glare towards the floor. "All right. I will first hear from both sides of the story before making a judgement."

"I did it," Hina growled. 

"Pardon?"

Hina raised his head, climbing to his feet and matching Yoko's gaze. "I did it," he repeated again, slowly but no less subdued. 

"You see!"

Hesitating, Yoko pulled Subaru aside but the latter was not forthcoming with any sort of additional advice.

"The consequences for stealing are severe," Yoko said, addressing the crowd. Even in his sleep-deprived mind, he knew that he had to tread carefully and that no answer would placate everyone. There were two options available to him: either he could resolve the matter himself by meting out some appropriate form of punishment and bypass the bureaucratic channels, or he could defer to the decisions of the many. He might be the Captain of the ship but the floating society still functioned as a democracy with its own laws and justice system. 

"The matter will therefore be brought before the Board and a decision will be made henceforth."

He felt uneasy, having already been warned regarding this _preferential treatment of the barbarian_ by the Board but one single look at the nodding faces of the crowd before him led Yoko to believe he'd made the right decision. After all, it was not for him to rule. 

All things considered, the sentence brought down was not nearly as harsh as it could have been. A more stringent curfew, reduced hours in the biodome and eighty hours of hard labour in the waste disposal unit.

“The honey locust will soon be blooming," was all that Hina said after the Board dissembled following the ruling. Then he returned to his cabin and remained there for the rest of the evening.

* * *

Nightfall. It was freezing cold out on the bow. Yoko wrapped his coat around himself tighter; his jaw ached from clenching together in a bid to suppress the shivering. The wind had died down some hours ago and the current was calm and quiet. An hour ago, Yoko had lounged in the captain's seat and left his mind to wander through the labyrinth that was the future. An hour later, he had bundled on his warmest clothes and slipped out on deck, picking his way around the cables and winches to sit on an oversized hatch door. It provided neither comfort nor warmth. In fact, the undeniable difficulty with which he perched on the edge reminded him that he ought to be back in command of the vessel, which was paradoxically what he wished for. Not the thoughts that were inching their way to the forefront of his mind.

"Yoko?"

He would've startled if it weren't for the almost unbearable cold. "Hina." 

Lolling on the tip of his tongue was the inevitable question _what are you doing out here?_ but it seemed pertinent not to make mention of it, lest Hina simply reciprocate the curiosity. Instead, he returned his attention to the stretch of midnight blue before them as the ship readied to plough a great rivet through the deathly stillness, while Hina folded onto the hatch door beside him, jerkily rubbing his hands together.

"It's cold," Hina gasped after a fashion, his teeth chattering. "More cold than I know, like I’ll turn into the wind."

"You must've had methods of dealing with the weather, back on the island." Truthfully, being out in the air was putting Yoko in a foul mood.

"No, it was never like this." Hina paused. Yoko could see Hina gazing at him from the corner of his eye but resolutely stared ahead. "This doesn’t appear to be real."

"That's because it's not," Yoko replied flatly, a little too quickly perhaps. "Events that happen during the night don't exist so you should go back to bed and wake up in the real world tomorrow."

"You don’t make any sense to me. Maybe all humans are too difficult to understand and that is why we can live together and apart at the same time."

Yoko mumbled under his breath, "Are they, really?"

"Yes." After another heavy pause, Hina cleared his throat. His teeth chattered in the cold and his hands were already bone white, practically glowing under the night sky. "I made trouble for you. It was not intentional."

"You don't need to explain yourself to me. That's not how this works."

"What is this?"

Before he could hold it back, Yoko shot Hina a sad look and found the words dying on the tip of his tongue. When he saw Hina gazing back at him steadily, it was all Yoko could do to refrain from simply marching back into his bridge and forgetting everything until tomorrow. The sea slushed against the hull of the ship as they rocked. Yoko shook his head and laughed softly to himself. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"I’m not a fool, Yoko. I know when I’m not wanted, but I thought maybe there was more than simply one man and one barbarian. But clearly you are as tired as I am."

"That's not what I mean at all,” Yoko replied, suddenly more exhausted than he’d ever been. He slid off his perch and winced as the blood on his legs jolted into action once more, stinging away the numbness. “Just go back to sleep. Nobody should be awake at this hour, especially if there is no need for it."

"No need for me, you mean."

Yoko shot him a brief, irritable glare and wrapped his overcoat tighter around himself against the oncoming wind. "I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer," he snapped, making for the door.

"I'm saying I'm sorry."

"I know!" Yoko shouted suddenly, hunching his shoulders and pulling away from Hina's outstretched hand. "Shut up, I don't want to hear your apologies."

"It’s difficult adjusting to this new life--"

Yoko whirled around, his cheeks flushed with red. "It doesn't matter. I don't care that you fucking took the food, Hina."

"Then why are you so angry?"

"Because I _hesitated_!" 

Breathing hard but barely seeing the wisps of mist that formed in the air, Yoko ran his gloved fingers through his hair. His body shook from the effort of not running away, of remaining calm, but the anger inside of him churned and boiled over. "Because I let myself be swayed by you. Any other passenger and I would've sentenced you myself; it's a simple case. Black and white. Hell, you even confessed! And yet I … I couldn't. So fuck you, Hina."

And just like that, he found himself wrapped in Hina’s embrace. He trembled under the heat of it, of Hina's hot breath against his own frozen cheek. Hina pulled him closer with an unrelenting grip, their two bundled bodies colliding against one another out on the empty deck. The force of it slammed Yoko against the hatchdoor; the icy pane was unyielding under his back and the fine frost crystals melted against his skin, and all the while Hina was above him with that hot, dark stare that said more than Yoko could ever articulate. Everything about that look said that Hina simply _wanted_ him.

“I can’t,” Yoko said hoarsely. “I’ll only mess this up.”

But Hina ignored him and kissed him anyway with cold, soft lips. Yoko moaned and weakened and hated himself for kissing Hina back and wanting it too. He reached out and clutched at the front of Hina’s jacket, needing, crushing the two of them together like it would be the last time he’d ever give in to himself. Everything inside of him was at war, screaming for him to listen, stop listening, just _do_ , until nothing made sense anymore except Hina’s lips and his tongue and the heat between them that was as intoxicating as the promise of a better future. The vision burst into his mind of a warm sunset on a beach and the water lapping against a shore, of sweetened dates dangling from palm trees and Hina feeding him ripened fruit from between his fingers, and Yoko glutting on it all. And there would be nobody else. Nobody else in the entire world.

“I can’t,” he whispered again, desperately, as Hina kissed him along the exposed curve of his neck. “Please, don't.”

Just as quickly as he began, Hina stopped and pulled back, panting hard. 

“I need to get back to work,” Yoko said quietly, wiping at his mouth with a trembling hand. Not trusting himself to look at Hina, Yoko edged around him with his gaze averted and hastily made his way inside. 

Even when he was back in the captain’s seat, his lips continued to burn.

* * *

The sun was bearing hard upon them that day; they'd sailed beyond Winter's reach and had steadily coursed into warmer waters where the heat from above had driven them to open the windows for a good airing, and giant slate hot plates were left out on the top deck to soak up the sun's energy. The crew had disembarked the vessel and were dancing along the beachfront, the cuffs of their trousers rolled up past their knees and wet sand clinging to their calves as they delighted in the hour of leisure time afforded by the easy, careful abundance of raw materials on the island that had stuffed the cargo hold at full capacity.

"All right guys," called Subaru, picking up his clipboard. "Time to pack up, we're leaving in five. Roll call."

Reluctantly, the crew slowly starting moving toward the rowboats, pausing only to have their names marked off by the officers. Yoko helped to secure the last of the freshwater tanks to the small motorised boat and went over to Subaru's side, where the latter was cross-matching the passenger names. The last few dawdlers finally climbed into the boats and pushed off from the beach.

"We still have one missing," Subaru murmured, flashing the clipboard.

"Shit," Yoko muttered, his gaze scrolling down the list. His heart stopped for a second when he saw the box next to HINA left unchecked. "Are you certain he hasn't gone back with the others?"

"Positive," Subaru affirmed. "I've been watching everyone return and the reports are in. The figures tell us we're still one short."

"All right. Get these boys back to the ship, they've worked hard enough. Organise a search party; he could be injured."

After double checking that his communication device was working, Yoko headed inland toward the dense jungle that formed a barrier between the sea and the vast mountain that sprouted from the centre of the island. He trod into the gloomy humidity where the air was thick with moisture and flying insects that dipped in and out of his gaze before circling him with curiosity. His shoes were unsuitable for this terrain, cracking and slipping underfoot and making him grab hold of the tree trunks for support, but they were slick with dew and sticky with resin. He'd barely begun his trek into the jungle when his muscles started to protest, unused to the uneven terrain and the mulchy, mossy, unstable jungle floor. 

He glanced back the way from which he'd come and saw only a small opening of light that signalled the way to the beach. The smartest thing would be to wait until the search party arrived and they could set off together, cover more ground and provide integrated recovery once they located Hina, but as hard as he tried, Yoko's legs continued to work under him and took him deeper and deeper in, and would not stop for something as trivial as personal safety. The conversation he'd had with Hina from that frozen night echoed in his mind; the things that he could remember with any clarity seemed like minor details, inconsequential, like how Hina smelled like a tropical beach or the faint scars across Hina's cheeks, or the intensity and determination set defiantly in Hina's gaze right before they’d kissed. Little things that failed to touch on any of the words that had come before. The words themselves he could barely recall.

Perhaps it was just his imagination but time seemed to have moved far too quickly. By now he could no longer see the shore, just dense jungle behind him and an endless stretch of green before him. His trousers snagged on the thorned vines that lurched from around giant buttresses, already damp from sweat and moisture. 

Yoko wiped at his brow in annoyance and pressed on. He slowed his pace, taking slow steps as he came to a steep incline. Below was simply a mess of trees, leaves of different colours and branches that jutted out like spikes. His communicator told him that Subaru had reached the vessel. 

"Fuck's sake!" he growled when his sleeve snagged on a branch, whipping his arm back to free it, but it had been caught completely, the cuff twisted around the razor-edged vines protruding from the branch. 

Yoko yanked his arm and tugged; a sharp ripping sound later and he stumbled from the recoil as his shirt tore. His legs collapsed underneath him and his body tumbled after it, rolling sideways along the incline and dragging a layer of the forest floor with him. Semi-decomposed mulch smeared across his face. Gravity pulled him further down the slope until Yoko could see that it fell away, sharply, into an unknown space below. 

He snarled, frustrated, and scrambled to his feet but the slippery ground made it difficult to gain any purchase as he continued to slide down towards the drop. Crouching and panting hard, he noted for a second that his hands were now scratched with blood that trickled steadily down his wrists and dripped on the earth, and saw a stub from a raised root not far above him. 

Pushing off from his haunches, Yoko leapt up to grab hold of it but the root slipped from between his fingers -- all he felt were the fibres from the tree root digging underneath his fingernails and the curious sensation of weightlessness as he plunged off the drop and into the emptiness below.

* * *

_Idiot_.

His head hurt. Every pulse of his heartbeat thumped loudly in his skull but that was the only word he could think of to adequately sum up his situation. 

"Idiot."

Then he realised that it wasn't his mind speaking to him but someone else. He opened his eyes and found himself at the bottom of a ravine with someone crouched over him, blocking out what little sun there was. Yoko scrambled to sit up but his head started spinning from the effort. He groaned. "I came to rescue you, Hina."

Hina snorted. "The other way around, I think."

"Well, nevertheless I found you. The others should get here soon. Just … let me get the communicator--"

"It smashed." Hina stood up and moved a short distance away to pick up the remnants of the communication device. He tossed it in the air a couple of times to emphasise the dangling cable and broken casing before throwing it to Yoko. 

Yoko watched it land next to him. "We're not that far from the shore anyway. We should get back before the others start to worry."

At this, Hina shrugged. "You need to get back. I do not."

"Pardon?"

"I am not returning to the ship. I do not … fit. I 'disrupt the equilibrium of resources versus labour'." Hina laughed a little under his breath, looking away. 

Braving himself against the inevitable headache, Yoko pulled himself up again and gingerly climbed to his feet. He swayed, sticking his hand out to right himself on a branch and furiously blinked away the spots before his eyes. "That's bullshit. Stop being petty and give me a hand, I'm too tired to deal with this."

"I prefer this island. Bullshit is having to live how you want me to live."

“That’s not a good enough excuse!” Yoko snapped, crawling onto his hands and knees to gain better purchase then steadying himself before gingerly standing up. Hina remained rooted to the spot, watching Yoko with guarded eyes. “We all have to deal with things that we don’t want to. It’s called life. You can’t just decide that you’re going to run off because someone called you out for fucking up, not when there are people counting on you. We all need to make this work. You included.”

“I _am_ making this work. Goodbye Yoko.”

The last thing he saw was Hina coming at him with a fist and a remorseful expression on his face.

* * *

His head hurt but that was not so unexpected. He'd already had plenty of experience in such things. When Yoko roused to consciousness for the second time, he no longer felt the damp jungle floor beneath him but firm, starched white sheets and soft atmospheric lighting dimmed to a pleasant yellow glow that seemed to come from nowhere. Cuffed to his arm were cables of various sizes and there was a drip hanging above his head slowly feeding clear liquid into the back of his hand.

"Hina?" he asked wonderingly.

"I'm afraid not," answered the junior doctor who abandoned the thick sheaves of documents set on the desk to come by Yoko's bedside, his stethoscope in hand. "You're in the medical bay. Welcome back on board, Yokoyama-san."

"Nishikido, isn't it?" Yoko wheezed, easing himself to a sitting position. The doctor nodded. "How…"

"Shibutani-san found you unconscious on the beach and brought you back." Pre-empting Yoko's next question, Nishikido added, "Without the barbarian. Perhaps Shibutani-san can explain it better."

"Where is he?"

Nishikido hesitated for a moment. "He's in the brig." Yoko stared at him. "The Board overruled his order for a search party. He said that it was your command. They directly disobeyed it."

It suddenly struck him as odd that the doctor had referred to him with his name, rather than simply 'Captain' like the rest of the crew. Yoko swallowed hard and ventured carefully, "Mutiny?"

Nishikido slowly nodded. "For what it's worth, I--"

"Don't," Yoko cut in hurriedly. "It's fine, doctor. Best not to implicate yourself in anything." 

"I'm sorry, sir."

Yoko fell back onto his pillows and stared at the light panels above his head without really looking. His thoughts were all over the place; it was hard to focus on one thing at a time. In the background of the logistics flooding his mind was the realisation that he'd lost what was most precious to him. The people had spoken and they'd taken away his greatest love, the H.I.J.M.S. Eito. 

Yet she sailed on without him. 

And she sailed further and further away from the island. 

"Thank you doctor," Yoko said quietly. 

Sensing that Yoko needed a moment to digest the information, Nishikido bowed and exited the room. 

The ship sailed on silently beneath him.

When it came time for him to be discharged from the medical bay, Yoko found himself without a place to go except his cabin. Bathed in blue light from the glass panels that lined the walls, the room felt cold and empty. It was simply functional, a room containing some furniture that told nothing of its inhabitant. The board had allowed him to retain his cabin, citing that it would be too much trouble to move everything now, and gave him forty-eight hours to assign himself to a new position aboard the ship. Perhaps because he couldn't think of anything else to do, Yoko created a position for himself as Maruyama's assistant in the biodome, but the place reminded him too much of Hina, so he mostly sat nestled amongst the roots of the trees and watched as Maru planted new varieties of edible plants.

Having been released from the brig shortly after Yoko woke up, Subaru dropped by the biodome from time to time but never said very much. Yoko didn't know what to say either, except that he wanted to thank Subaru for standing up for him and Hina, but a single offhand glance from Subaru was enough to keep his lips sealed. Yoko wasn't even sure what Subaru was up to these days -- he wasn't permitted to view the passenger information lists anymore. 

"-- what do you think, sir?"

"I've told you, Maru. You don't need to call me sir. Just Yokoyama is fine."

"Habit, I guess." It was nowhere near curfew but the sun was already swamped by the evening sky. They'd spent the day clearing out the river algae with limited success; it seemed with every bundle he skimmed off the surface of the water, another slick ooze floated down to replace it. The air stank of stale mould and half-fermented slime. Yoko was starting to think it would've been easier if they'd simply left it alone.

"I think we should leave it for tomorrow," Yoko replied, pulling off his gloves and settling down on the short embankment. "At the moment it doesn't feel as though we're accomplishing much other than giving the algae a free massage."

Maru chortled and came to sit near Yoko. His expression became solemn. "It feels that way even without the algae."

Yoko hummed noncommittally and busied himself with loosening his gumboots. There had been other murmurings of discontent among the crew regarding the current captaincy of the vessel but not enough to result in any changes being made. Mostly they were Yoko's old friends who would praise him for having done a fine job and sighed wistfully at _the way things used to be_. Mostly Yoko just kept his head down, focused on his work inside the biodome, and busied his hands so they would not miss the feel of the rudder. 

"What are we going to do, Yokoyama-san? It's been almost a month and the captain still hasn't decided on a clear course. I overheard the officers talking about it yesterday."

"That's not for us to decide," Yoko replied automatically. He knew exactly where they needed to go to avoid the cold and still remain within a safe distance to the nearest resources, but no-one had approached him to ask for his advice, and Yoko did not think his input would be appreciated at this time. 

Maru scoffed, throwing down his own utility gloves. "What's the point in sailing around the world if we're not even looking for survivors anymore?" he muttered. "And I _liked_ Hina. He was one of the few decent people around this place."

"I liked Hina too," said Yoko quietly, more to himself than anything. _I think I liked him a lot_.

It took another three months of drifting through the ice and the dawn of a worker's strike from the mess hall before a security guard approached Yoko in the biodome and requested his presence before the Board. 

They set a lengthy document in front of him and handed him a pen.

"The conditions of your reinstatement to Captaincy are as follows: you are forbidden from returning to that island and you are forbidden from searching for any more survivors…"

"My terms are that Shibutani-san is also reinstated to the position of first officer."

"Very well."

That afternoon they handed him the revised contract and Yoko signed without hesitation. 

He commanded the ship to alter course to avoid the cold and start towards the west coast of the Americas, made a short announcement to the passengers on board about the importance of keeping strong and rationing food, gave Maru a day off to watch the icebergs on the top deck as they sailed by, then settled into his seat on the bridge with Subaru by his side and tried not to think about that tropical island.

* * *

A year passed quietly without anyone really noticing. The technicians had installed mechanised floorboards that stored up energy whenever someone walked over them and the hot stone plates left in the sun were able to heat up the cabins during winter. The leftover energy was poured into the biodome, which had grown to become a dense jungle with its own cultivation of herbs and medicines. More leisure time for the passengers meant there were no more strikes and the birth count was slowly increasing due to the abundance of food on board and provisions available for new mothers.

Yoko personally visited each happy couple and blessed them well. And when he returned to his cabin at night, he couldn’t help but hope that Hina was also happy alone on the island. 

He remembered the look of joy on Hina’s face whenever they docked in a new port, and wondered if he could ever feel that happy.

* * *

Funny how his entire life could be summarised by the contents of a single crate. Yoko folded up his pyjamas and placed them at the top of the pile of clothes before lowering them into the crate and replacing the lid. He wordlessly accepted the iron nails that Maru passed to him and hammered them into place, sealing up his fate.

"All ready to go?" asked Maru brightly, handing Yoko a few more water purification tablets. 

"All ready," Yoko confirmed, wiping his brow in the bleak stuffiness of the cargo hold. He picked up the receiver to the telephone attached to the wall and dialled the direct line to the bridge, asking for Subaru.

"Captain?"

"Alter course thirty-six degrees south-east and increase speed to forty knots," commanded Yoko. 

There was a pregnant pause on the other end of the line. "Sir?"

"Thank you, Subaru." And he hung up the phone.

Before he even made it to the bridge, Subaru was already slouching at the door and thrust a clipboard at him outlining the expected conditions for their new course. 

"I don't mean to tell you your job but the conditions of your captaincy are--"

"Well-known to me, thank you. Full speed ahead."

"You're mad."

"And you're more than capable." Yoko turned to face Subaru, who was studying him apprehensively. "Don't think I'm not aware of the fact that you've been bitching about how you've had to step up to the plate more than once, how you've been almost single-handedly running this ship while I squirrel away doing God-knows-what."

"You sneaky piece of shit."

"It may be premature but please, indulge me. I want to be the first to say it: Take care of her, Captain Shibutani. You're going to do a fine job. The passengers and crew of the H.I.J.M.S. Eito are in good hands."

"Yoko…"

Turning his attention back to the data in front of him, Yoko smiled. "We don't need to pull up too close. Maruyama has kindly offered to row me to shore."

Ignoring all further protests from Subaru, Yoko hummed as they approached the island. It didn't look much different from the first time Yoko had set eyes upon it: pristine white beach, a sparkling foreshore, tropical fruit trees blanketing the mainland, the burst of green mountain that soared toward the sky. Yet the trepidation that Yoko had been so desperate to smother built up with every wave that crashed against the side of the ship, every ripple in the water that signalled their arrival towards the shore. 

The door to the bridge burst open. Security guards flanked the head administrator as he walked in, pointing his finger accusingly at Yoko. "We made a deal."

"We did, and I rather agree with the terms. Thank you administrator. A send off will not be necessary."

Maru was already waiting for him by the rowboat, carefully securing the crate with Yoko's belongings. He was dressed in his finest clothes that were completely impractical for labour but nonetheless Yoko appreciated the gesture. As the ship shuddered to a halt and drifted languidly in the calm waters, Yoko climbed into the rowboat and the crew on deck lowered them down, saluting them. Yoko saluted them back then waved, grinning with the sun bright on his face. 

"Watch out for the man-eating plants," Maru said when they pulled up on the sandy embankment. "And the giant fireants."

"Watch out for Doctor Nishikido," Yoko countered, dragging his crate onto the shore and away from the water. "He might request more medicinal herbs."

But Maru just laughed, already floating back into the sea and drifting further and further away, until Yoko could no longer make out the individual words and just saw a speck bobbing in the water towards the vessel. He turned away from it and took off his shoes and socks, allowing the fine slick sand to squish between his toes and dust up his ankles. The rally point was empty as ever; the same posters requesting all inhabitants of the island to remain calm and wait patiently for help had curled up under the heat from the sun, its ink faded, the salty sea chewed through the paper fibres. 

From the distance he could hear the vessel moving off but he didn't turn around to see it one last time. Instead he looked at the colossal mountain waiting to be trekked and thought about all of nature’s treasures that he knew rested above it all, thought about the wildlife that he would meet and the plants that would provide for him; letting go of his responsibilities and gaining new ones as easily as changing into a fresh set of linen clothes.

* * *

The sun was warm that day. It didn't pierce into his eyes, nor did it beat down upon his skin. It glittered in the crystal clear water beneath him, lapping against him, as he floated lazily in the middle of the lagoon. A white-gold beach cradled the lagoon from all sides, ringed by cheerful green palms that rested, stilly. Their leaves sprung out at all angles, a bit like Hina's hair at the best of times. But right now, Hina's hair drifted languidly in the water like a spongey black halo around his head. There was only the gentle sound of ripples against the shore and the occasional flutter of birds' wings swooping from above. And insects, too, but Hina had grown accustomed to the ebb and flow of insect calls and buzzes as the days cycled past.

That would pretty much be his entire day. 

When his skin wrinkled up and the fish no longer feared his presence, he sluiced through the water to the lagoon's rim. There was a faint, chattering sound far in the distance, like his stomach rumbling when empty. He trekked to the cliffside and looked down below, then grinned. 

Low, down low, on the beachfront was a giant crate and another human being. And even though it was too far away for him to see, Hina knew that Yoko was also smiling, and so he waved. 

Yoko waved back.


End file.
